He slipped his hands around her waist and very slowly let her slide down his body.
“Does this tradition involve something hard?”
“Yes, in a way.”
“Lead on.”
He brought her around the end of the crush pad to a wooden vat set up next to the building. A short set of stairs was pushed close to it.
She walked up the little flight of steps and looked inside the vat. It was filled with tons of grapes. “You want to what? Crush them?”
“Exactly.”
She laughed. Jammer went over to a CD player and pushed a button. Beautiful Italian opera poured from the speakers. Callie laughed again.
“Jim, if you would do the honors.”
Jim came over with a bucket and indicated that Callie should remove her sandals and dip her feet into the water. Jim gave them a quick scrub and then it was Jammer’s turn.
“Everything’s been de-stemmed so you won’t hurt your feet,” Jammer explained.
Callie stepped down into the vat, finding the grapes warm from the sun’s rays. She tucked her skirt into her waistband and started to walk on the grapes.
“Squishy. So this is something you do every year?”
“Yes. Jim says it makes the wine better to have some grapes crushed the old-fashioned way. Who’s to argue?”
“It’s fun,” Callie said as she started to move a little faster, pumping her legs up and down.
Jim poured each of them a glass of wine. Callie sipped and crushed, releasing the juices, the sweet smell of the grapes permeating her senses, heightened by the wine.
Around and around they went, until the grapes beneath their feet turned into pulp. Juice started to fly up as they continued to wade through the mush, the haunting Italian music a perfect backdrop to a perfect day.
At one point, she looked over at Jammer. His clothes were rumpled, his hair a tousled mess, and he had a hint of beard stubble shadowing his jaw. She’d seen him in a suit; she knew how well he cleaned up. But her heart lurched at the carefree look on his face. This was the real man under Jammer’s sexy and tough facade.
The real man who turned toward her and got caught by her eyes as if she’d reached out and touched him. She reveled in the knowledge that Jammer couldn’t see her without wanting her. An ache spread inside her, a tangible thing that took on a life of its own.
Everything that touched her was warm-the grapes beneath her feet, the waning sun, Jammer’s dark eyes. Her breath hitched and stammered in her lungs as he drew close to her. The music swelled into an arching crescendo that brought tears to her eyes.
He captured her face between his palms, his expression mirroring the ache that had spread to every part of her. His eyes locked on to hers so intently it was a physical connection. There was communication between them though neither spoke.
He just held her gaze for the longest moment. Then he took her hand and pulled it up to his mouth. He kissed her wrist and palm.
Then without a word, Jammer led her out of the vat and across the yard into the house, through the back door.
They walked up the stairs to the bedroom. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought she was going to swoon.
He stopped in the doorway and pushed her hair from her face, framing her cheeks with his palms. “You are an amazing woman. All those intriguing layers. Peeling them away every day would be an unending joy for me. Delving into your soul and discovering every inch of who you are, inside and out. I love your confidence and your sense of humor.”
“And when that wears off? When it grows old?” she asked.
“Life offers no guarantees. You know that as well as I do. But we are who we are, flawed, tough because we have to be, and doing exactly what our hearts dictate. It’s not a matter of getting it out of my system. It’s more a matter of integrating it into my life, so I can live that passion every day.”
She stared up into his eyes, feeling the force of every word, the complete honesty. But it did them absolutely no good.
Their relationship had been doomed from the very beginning.
She wouldn’t be on this mission if she wasn’t committed to apprehending criminals and protecting the citizens of the United States.
She’d mistakenly thought this assignment would be a piece of cake.
She’d been so wrong.
Body shaking, lips trembling, she held that intense gaze, held on to it tightly, and smiled. But she didn’t get to say anything-his cell rang.
It took Jammer a moment to let go of her, a moment to pull the mantle of the arms dealer back on. The music abruptly ended outside as Jammer put the phone to his ear.
“Fuck!” he said, and closed his eyes.
Callie waited while he conversed, pacing up and down. When he’d finished he threw the phone. It hit the pillows on the bed.
“What?” she asked softly, gently putting her hand on his arm.
“I think I’m so damn smart. I just shot myself in the foot.”
“How?”
“The shipment that Joost and Dieter promised me just got confiscated by the U.S. fucking Navy.” He ran his hands through his hair and locked them behind his neck. He leaned against the open bedroom door.
“Oh God. Where?” Callie felt her mission spinning out of control-and taking the Ghost out of her reach. She had evidence of some buys he’d done, but nothing that tied him to selling weapons to a Colombian drug lord, which would seal his fate. She pushed away her soft feelings. Something would have to be done. She was not going to fail in her mission.
“ San Diego. Two planes flew my order to a small airport. The cargo was supposed to be combined with my complete shipment and then flown on to Colombia. But SEALs were there training and they entered the wrong plane. My plane. Now the weapons have been moved to the navy base. They’ll trace them back to Joost, but not to me. I’ve conveniently taken out the only man who can supply me with what I need for this deal with Fuentes. Damn, Eduardo is going to be livid. He might even cut me out of the deal. I can’t have that.”
“Since we can’t replace those weapons, then we have only one choice.”
Startled, Jammer turned to look at her. “What are you saying?”
“We break into the naval station and steal our weapons back.”
11
JAMMER STARED AT GINA for a moment. “Are you serious? A naval base?”
“I have contacts. I can get us in and pilot the plane.”
He saw the wheels turning in her head. Of course she would have contacts. Gillian Santiago was a very resourceful woman who had been appointed by the president; if the Watchdog director couldn’t pull strings, no one could. “So can I,” he said, warming to the idea.
“Then I say we start planning on how we’re going to do this. Let me make some phone calls and see what I can find out.”
He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her. “Why are you doing this?”
“My cut is tied up in this deal, Jammer. I don’t work for nothing.”
For the umpteenth time he wondered how deep her feelings for him went. If she was in turmoil about arresting him, she never showed it. But in bed, he knew she wasn’t playacting. “Ah, business again.”
Her eyes flashed. “That’s right. I have to keep my eye on the bottom line. I’m going to shower first because I’m
